“Perhaps so, but they would never venture to let you see it.  I never thought that you would make objections; and whose character, however deep, will bear investigation?”

“Are you sure that you hold your people securely?” asked he; “and that none of them will turn surly?”

Mascarin was waiting for this question, and taking from his desk the pieces of cardboard which he took so much pains to arrange, he replied, “I have here the names of three hundred and fifty people who will each invest ten thousand francs in the Company.  Listen to me, and judge for yourself.”

He put all three pieces of cardboard together, and then drawing out one he read,—­

“’N—–­, civil engineer.  Five letters written by him to the gentleman who procured his appointment for him:  worth fifteen thousand francs.’

“’P—–­, merchant.  Absolute proof that his last bankruptcy was a fraudulent one, and that he kept back from his creditors two hundred thousand francs.  Good for twenty thousand francs.’

“’Madame V—–.  A photograph taken in very light and airy costume.  Poor, but can pay three thousand francs.’

“’M.  H—–.  Three letters from her mother, proving that the daughter had compromised herself before marriage.  Letter from a monthly nurse appended.  Can be made to pay ten thousand francs.’

“’X—–­, a portion of his correspondence with L—–­ in 1848.  Three thousand francs.’

“‘Madame M. de M—–.  A true history of her adventure with M. J—–.’”

This sample was quite sufficient to satisfy M. de Croisenois.  “Enough,” cried he, “I yield.  I bow before your gigantic power, which utterly surpasses that of the police.  Give me your orders.”

Before this Mascarin had conquered Hortebise and Paul Violaine, and now he had the Marquis at his feet.  Many times during this conversation the Marquis had more than once endeavored to make up his mind to withdraw entirely from the business, but he had been unable to resist the strange fascination of that mysterious person who had been laying bare his scheme with such extraordinary audacity.  The few vestiges of honesty that were still left in his corrupted soul revolted at the thought of the shameful compact into which he was about to enter, but the dazzling prospect held out before his eyes silenced his scruples, and he felt a certain pride in being the associate of men who possessed such seemingly illimitable power.  Mascarin saw that there was no longer any necessity for the extreme firmness with which he had before spoken, and it was with the most studied courtesy that he replied:  “I have no orders to give you, Marquis, our interests are identical, and we must all have a voice in the deliberations as to the best means of carrying them out.”

This change from hauteur to suavity gratified Croisenois’ pride immensely.

“Now,” continued Mascarin, “let us speak of your own circumstances.  You wrote to me recently that you had nothing, and I am aware that you have no expectations for the future.”